The Reign of Superstition.

Not a monk is there in any of the lone monasteries of Shoa, not a hermit of the many in her cold mountains, not a dwarf nor a decrepit priest who has renounced the society of his fellow-men, but enjoys the reputation of being fully competent to blast the harvest at pleasure, to poison the fountain, and to render the able-bodied incapable. The thoughts of all classes move in a dense atmosphere of superstition. Talismans, written in mystic characters, if mixed with the seeds and leaves of potent witch plants, gathered by the hand of the forest recluse, afford a feeling of security which is not to be extracted from the pages of the Gospel; nor does any one ever venture to mount his mule without a preservative against the spear of the bandit, or the sharp knife of the heathen.

Savage man, obtaining only through the medium of his own wishes and imagination a glimmering idea of the invisible and supreme Power, seeks some tangible object of veneration, and some ostensible source of protection. Thus the Abyssinian, whose vague religious ideas afford him but small consolation in the hour of tribulation, and but little reliance of security or deliverance in the day of danger and distress, reposes implicit faith in the doctrine of amulets, which present a substance stamped with a mystic and supernatural character, and one capable of being attached individually to himself. The arms and neck are therefore clothed in a perfect panoply of charms against the influence of every misfortune and disease, whether experienced or anticipated; and the tulsim, which is a worked zone studded with minute leathern pockets, containing sacred spells enveloped in double and treble wrappers, encircles the waist of every man, woman, and child, throughout the Christian dominions of Sáhela Selássie, who himself reposes firm faith in their efficacy.

The influence of the evil eye exercises a strong control over the minds of all. Bad spirits are believed to roam about the earth and the waters, and to occupy houses after dark, whence the Amhára never ventures to throw fluid on the ground, lest the dignity of some unseen elf should be violated. The Beza, or sacrifice for the sick, is considered lawful and efficacious, and is frequently resorted to. The bullock, as the type of the invalid, after being driven round his couch amid singing and clamour, is slaughtered outside the threshold; or an egg is turned thrice towards the head of the patient, and then broken beside him. Saint Michael is, by many of the more ignorant, supposed to be the Almighty. The Virgin Mary is considered the creatress of the world; and Sunday is understood to have been a saint of surpassing sanctity, greatly superior both to Saint George and to Saint Michael, on which account he claims one day out of the seven, whereas other saints enjoy their festival only once during the month.

No Amhára will venture to destroy a serpent save on Saturday or Sunday, when the sight of one of these reptiles is deemed a favourable omen. In common with the heathen Galla, the Christians of Shoa make annual votive sacrifices in June to Sár, the evil spirit—notwithstanding its strict prohibition by royal proclamation. Three men and a woman, who understand how to deal with the Evil One, having assembled at the place appointed, proceed to perform the ceremony in a house newly swept. A ginger-coloured hen, a red she-goat, or a male Adel goat with a white collar, is sacrificed; and the blood of the victim, having been mixed with grease and butter, is secretly placed during the night in a narrow alley, when all who step therein are supposed to receive the malady of the invalid, who is thus restored to perfect health. During a visit some years ago to Motátit, the king perceived evidences of this pagan ceremony in the streets; and tracing the rite to a wealthy individual, who had caused it to be performed in order to free himself of disease, the honour of true religion was speedily vindicated by the transfer to the royal coffers of all the worldly substance of the delinquent.

Under cover of the night, a thread of cotton yarn is often stretched by the hired sorcerer completely round some devoted tenement; and the extremities having been connected by means of an iron link, well imbued in blood, the walls and doorposts are freely sprinkled and bedaubed with gore. Day dawns upon the incantation, which is believed to be the work of the Devil himself; and among all the assembled multitude, who consider that some heavy calamity, if not instant death, would follow the act, there is not to be found one individual sufficiently bold to remove the spell, and thus deliver the inmates from its withering influence. Since the king’s arrival in the capital, the appearance of the bloody finger on the wall had thrown the inhabitants into the deepest consternation; and to the astonishment of every by-stander, a missionary of the Church of England tore away the charm without any evil consequences following his rashness. That very night, however, the defeated necromancer planned an attack to rob the clergyman’s premises, and it was only defeated by the extra vigilance preserved in consequence of the exposure of the impostor.

The drum of the water kelpie is heard by the credulous native in the echo of every roaring cataract, and the wretch drowning in the swollen torrent is believed to be dragged under the overwhelming wave as the favo............